“Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. But I'll call a doctor, since you order it. Manning’s handwriting had an air of being clear without being easily legible; it was large and rather roundish, with a lack of definition about the letters and a disposition to treat the large ones as liberal-minded people nowadays treat opinions, as all amounting to the same thing really—a yearssmoothed boyish rather than an adult hand. He took his social pleasures once a year in Hong-Kong, after Easter.
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